I don’t mind scraping by on my paychecks because I made a joke the other day that made my boss spit his coffee out. I love making people laugh when they least expect the punchline to hit. How’s your lunch?
I had a long conversation with Julia earlier that consisted of me jumping from Friday to Sunday to Thursday to Wednesday night. I am 25 now. A guy at the bar we went to for my birthday welcomed me to my quarter-life crisis and told me he hated turning 25. I didn’t. In the middle of my first time taking *****, Rosie asked me how it felt. I said it felt great. It felt like I’ve learned a lot and I still have a lot to learn. Giving up is for suckers. I’d be lying if I said most of my day isn’t spent in a lazy stupor, but then I read a great piece of writing and I’m up and typing away at 2 a.m. The rich Taiwanese dude asked if I tell everyone I’m hustling with my writing and I said, “Yeah. I know what I want out of life.
“Do you?”
Not every day is worth writing about. The most important thing that happened on my birthday was an artist I’ve admired since high school emailing me, months after my pitch, and telling me he was down for an interview. Things just fall together like that sometimes. So that’s where I’m headed.
A STOR¥ BY ? 